The French Beach
by Molly Elizabeth
Summary: Ron is undoubtedly attracted and interested in Hermione. She's returning the intrest until a French boy gets in the way. This story takes place in a ritzy part of Southern France. It's a one night tale of discovery and miscommunication.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Hermione sat on the shores of a French beach in her black bathing suit. Her mind wondered to subjects of school and the boys, her studies less than what had happened in the last couple weeks before school let out. She whispered her thoughts out loud, "I hope Harry is holding up, with Sirius and Dumbledore…everything happened so fast."

She sighed heavily and looked towards the sunset and glanced to her left.

A freckly, pale, gangly boy in blue swimming trunks was trying out the surf. Quickly withdrawing his foot from the cold water.

Hermione couldn't see his face, but only his blazing red hair. She looked back to the sea.

Blazing red hair...Ron?!

She stood up quickly and started toward the boy. He looked up, down, then up again in her direction.

"Mione!" he called waving wildly. They embraced in a hug when they met.

His heart beat hard.

"Fancy seeing you here Hermione!" He smiled at her.

"I saw you! You're a little scared of the ocean aren't you Ron?"

He flushed, "No!, it's just…cold! That's it!"

She shook her head smiling and suggested a walk.

They began and of course Harry got brought up.

"Do you think he's alright?" She asked concerned

"He can take care of himself, Hermione, he survived You-Know-Who's attack in the first place."

"That's not what I meant, I mean, well, with everyone dying. It was hardly a year ago when he lost Sirius, and now Dumbledore…And now he's sitting alone at the wretched Dursley house. I just hope he sends an owl soon…"

Ron kicked at a shell harder than he expected.

"Ouch!" He sucked air in sharply. They both looked down to see a long cut across the side of his foot. Hermione bent down to look at it more closely and Ron moved his foot away.

"Don't bother, it's fine." He spoke with a slight coldness in his voice. She pulled her hand away, slightly hurt and grabbed his.

His heart jumped.

"Here, my towel is this way, I'm sure I have something with me to fix that up."

Ron hobbling and Hermione supporting him, they walked awkwardly towards a pink and yellow striped beach towel with a big tote beside it. Hermione rummaged around in the big bag while Ron sat holding his cut closed. She pulled out a smaller towel and ripped off a section of the corner with her teeth. Ron watched her carefully, she seemed so determined and moving so quickly. Like an emergency medic. He thought she cared about him for a second, instead of Harry so much. The next thing he felt was her hand on his foot, asking to put the makeshift bandage around. She tied it just tight enough to hold it in place.

He shivered under her hand.

Their gazes met and she smiled at him sweetly. The roses in his cheeks deepened and he leaned forward an inch. He was sadly surprised when he heard Hermione's mothers voice.

"Oh sweetie, who's this?!" She asked excitedly

"Mom, this is my friend from school--,"

"Oh you mean Harry?! She's talked about you all summer!" She tried to stop her, really she did, but it was too late, she looked over at Ron, who's eyes fell to the sand.

"No, I'm Ron." He got up and started back the other way. Hermione glared at her mother and walked after him.

"Ron, hey, wait up, please!"

He swung his arm at her, suggesting he meant, get away from me, stop trying. It's not like he needed to tell her. It seemed that she probably never had.

"Ron, stop!" She yelled again, finally reaching him.

Wheeling around, furiously, his cheeks were no longer red roses, they were raging bonfires. All she had to see was the blazed anger in his eyes. All she had to see was the tears forming in the corners of those eyes. Any word she said would have been used against her. Hermione Granger and screwed up, and hurt her best friend. She longed to explain to him everything, but he was halfway down the beach by the time she cleared her own tears.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Later that night Hermione recalled the events that occurred after her and Ron's tiff. The way he looked when he reached his family, sitting on the beach in the sun, broke her heart. Wishing she could be with him, how smiling, composed he was. All the members of his family would expect nothing between either of them. Especially not Gabriel, the French flirt of a sister that his brothers fiancé had with her on their vacation. Ron looked in Hermione's direction. She still hadn't moved since he stormed away from her, but saw a glint of surprise in his expression. He only reached around Gabriel with his arm and tried to begin speaking French. She could seem him mimicking a mustache and a snooty French attitude. Gabriel laughed and batted her eyes.

Along with these images, she recalled a surprising jealous rage in her chest going off like a cannon in war. Debating how to handle the situation, she finally decided a note would be easiest. She grabbed a piece of parchment and her quill and scrawled out:

_Ron,_

_Meet in me in the Riviera Hotel Lobby in one hour. Alone._

She grabber her owl from the cage and double knotted the note to it's talon. "This goes to Ronald Weasley, red haired, tall, freckled. Oh, you know who he is." Talking stupidly to her bird. The barn owl's head swiveled to the side understanding, and it sailed out the open window into the navy blue night. She walked past the mirror and judged her appearance. Pride falling, she got out a forgotten makeup bag and a dress for just the occasion. Hermione thought a moment and began to plan out her night look. She'd never really dressed up since the Yule Ball with Krum, she felt embarrassed at the thought. She decided on a simple, yet girly look. Blushing pink cheeks with popping eyes. Finishing it off with a swipe of lip gloss, she looked at her face. Smiling, she felt a confidence that had seemed to vanish ever time she was near Ron. Her teeth were pearls of white, thanks to her parents being dentists. Since they were in France on vacation, her mother insisted that she bring a simple sundress, "just in case", lucky for Hermione, this was _just _her case. The dress hung limply in the closet of her bedroom in the flat. It was a pale yellow with white flowering trim at the bottom with thin tank top sleeves. She tugged it on over her head and took another look in the mirror, "It just keeps getting better and better," she said to herself with a grin. But she thought again, "I don't look sexy enough…" Making an awkward face, in silence, she decided that her sex appeal would come from her hair. She grabbed a tube of gel and scrunched her curls to thick bouncing ringlets. Her hair flowed down to her back and onto her skin. As she was admiring her subtle irresistibility, the clock stuck 9 and she had to rush next door to the hotel lobby.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Hermione made her way slowly through a thick crowd of people. She saw the bar stools closely ahead. After pushing her way around the mob, she practically fell into the chair. Breathing deeply, she glanced up to the bartender who smiled at her. She smiled back. He was tall, built strong; arms, jaw, neck, with dark brown hair. His cheeks were freckled from the French sun and he had sparkling blue eyes. Whby was she noticing all of this about him…She saw him making his way towards her seat. Leaning elbows on the counter, he asked in a soft French accent,

"Anyzing to dreenk miss?" she looked towards the floor and shook her head. He lifted her chin up with his strong hands and stared into her eyes,

"Are you zure, I'll make it special for you." Her heart felt full and like it was pumping just a bit too hard. She smiled again and spoke quietly,

"Sure masseur." Winking at her, he started preparing something that looked very difficult, in a tall glass with lots of liquids. He set the drink on the napkin in front of her and said, "Sex on ze Beach, on ze house." Her ears felt hot, was he really flirting with her? A man, not a confusing young boy, but a real man. She felt strong, as strong as he looked, she picked up her head up and spoke directly to him,

"Thank you," saying silkily. And his conversation began.

Ron looked over in her direction, seeing her laugh with that yuppie. He slammed his mug on the counter and kicked his foot at the bar in disgust. Hitting his cut, he yelped and then pounded his fist on the table.

"Damnit!" Sitting at the bar for around twenty minutes, he had seen everything, the only thing that went unnoticed was him, seated maybe 10 seats down the bar. He had had enough. Enough of her leading him on. There was nothing left he could do to win her over. "Just look at that eye contact, she's flipping her hair, and that smile" He just wished he could make her smile like that. Ron was giving up. He just didn't understand why she told him to meet her, and now she's flirting with some bartender who she doesn't even know, right in front of his face. He wondered to himself, "I bet she's led Harry on too, just like this poor sap, and me." Not realizing he was staring at her, his focus came back and she was looking at him. Straight at him. The bartender had gone to make drinks for other pretty women. Even from the other end of the bar, he could see her flushed cheeks. He could even make out the black pen written on the napkin that sat in her hand, he could see the shapes of numbers. He raised his eye brows in a harsh acknowledgment and downed the last of his draft. Once again, slamming the glass on the table he stood up quickly and laid a bill out on the table from his pocket. As he stormed away from her again, he glanced back in her direction and gave her the coldest look he could muster without breaking down in her sight.

"This can't be happening!" Her head screamed. Everything was going so well, but that bartender, his charm just won her over in seconds. She searched the bar like it would give her answers when she noticed the bartender, Felipe, on the other side of the bar, touching a sad looking girls chin, talking, mixing a drink, saying "Sex on ze Beach, eetz on ze house." She continued to observe his play. "What a slime ball!" she said under her breath. Suddenly with this new self pride, she stood and strutted over to the sad girl, Felipe watching, and spoke loud and clear, "I'll save you some time and give you this jerks number. He just gave it to me " She glared at him, hating herself for almost falling for his princely charm act and turned away, walking. Pushing back through the throng of people, the tears came. Ron had saw everything, the heavy flirting, now she had no chance of explaining, and she'd have to explain even more if she even got the chance. Again she reminded herself "Hermione Granger, screwed up, messed up royally." She wasn't able to put a reasonable grasp on anything happening. Unaware of what was going on, she suddenly felt a hand on her wrist, she ripped her arm away, in no mood for any more games. Her train of thought was broken by her name being called.

"Hermione!" It brought her back to reality with breath taking force. She gasped at the voice.

"Ron!" She spun around to see him, standing there with her wrist in his hand. Breaking free from his grip, she engulfed him into a suffocating hug. Now instead of hiding her tears, they came freely onto his shirt. His arms surrounded her bare sobbing shoulders and he held her, right there in the middle of the crowded hotel lobby.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Getting from the hotel lobby outside to the boardwalk was all a blur for Hermione. She felt Ron's hand, leading her around, but nothing else. When she realized anything at all, she was standing on the beach, inches from the shore. She looked down at her sundress, thinking, "Why am I wearing this, it's dark outside…"

Ron tilted her head up with his hand and looked into her eyes. She understood what had happened and what was happening. He smiled at her and smiling back, she hugged him once more. Ignoring her exposed knees, she sat directly in the sand, and with Ron towering above her, she began her explanation.

"Ron, please, I need to explain everything. Harry is nothing more than a friend, I promise you. All my mother meant was that I was concerned because of the closest people to him dying, all I meant was I was concerned, not in love with him. And that guy at the bar, oh that asshole of a guy, he was nothing, I was just tired, Ron, so tired of waiting, that I just batted my eyes and he gave me his number, I was so nervous, I wasn't planning on calling him. That whole thing was just a confidence boost, I thought I was special for two seconds, until he was all over another girl, then I realized I was nothing. Then I realized that I had you and that's all I needed and Ron I'm so sorry."

She sealed her message with a salty, teary, kiss on the lips.

"I really love you, Ronald." She spoke into his mouth.

He was speechless, which was a benefit, seeing as how he didn't want to say a word to mess anything up. He just kept kissing her back, minutes after minutes passed and they were still attached at the lips. Their hands roamed shoulders, cheeks, backs, they just couldn't stop. They were making up for lost time.

"I've loved you ever since that troll in the bathroom."

Hermione giggled and said, "When I told you that you had dirt on your nose, I was hoping you'd ask me to get…just so I could touch your face."

Sitting in the sand, rambling until sunrise about every time they thought about each other was another way to make up for lost time. Twirling sand in her hair, Ron was laying beside her, sideways while she was on her back, face towards the sky. Neither of them noticed the sky growing lighter with each passing hour of memories.

"Close your eyes, Hermione" He kissed her again and again they didn't even pause when a pair of voices were talking

"They've been gone all night, I have no clue where they could be."

"If anything has happened to him, oh I don't know what I'll do!" came a worried motherly voice.

"If there anything you can do if you lose them?"

Ron and Hermione were just getting wrapped in the moment when a roar of laughter came from behind them.

It was the Twins.

Fred and George came romping up beside them doubled over with laughter, tears in their eyes.

The sang in unison "Ickle Ronnie has a girlfriend!"

They both blushed as red as the rising sun.


End file.
